


Here I Go Again

by Zeckarin



Series: And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [12]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BUT WAS IT REALLY THE FIRST FOR EVERYONE?, Bodyswap, First Meeting, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Queerplatonic Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Secrets, Time Loop, but not the one you're thinking about, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22179712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeckarin/pseuds/Zeckarin
Summary: An old and powerful magical artifact. An angel. A demon.What could possibly go wrong ?Crowley gets himself caught in a time loop and keeps going back to Eden.Meanwhile, Aziraphale is stuck with a 6 000 year younger version of Crowley, who knows nothing of their shared history.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1523585
Comments: 68
Kudos: 251
Collections: Series that I want to read once they are complete





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> My friend megzseattle and I are both writing loop stories in Groundhog's day's honor.  
> Neverending day stories are so much fun to write !
> 
> Hers is "Stuck In The Middle With You" and it's awfully funny. I couldn't recommend it enough!

**2020, Middle East.**

Voices echoed inside the building. The museum was old and a little worn. Swords and urns were exposed directly to the eyes, without the slightest panel of glass or the tiniest alarm. The very old night guard didn’t even wake up when the two entities walked past him, talking animatedly.

“Loved these guys ! Sumerians knew a LOT about magic !”

“Way too much for their own good. Look where it led them.”

“T’wasn’t entirely _my_ fault, angel. Couldn’t know they would listen to me !”

“You told them it was too peaceful and they needed to do something to change that ! You know you shouldn’t say that sort of thing, Crowley !”

“But it _was_ too peaceful. T’was so boooring, Aziraphale ! I didn’t tell them to go to war, just to have a little fun !”

“You have to watch your mouth, that is all I have to say. Wait. East wing. That is the right direction.”

“You always want to go East, angel. It’s South. Raphael said South wing. Come on.”

“Are you sure ? Were did I put her letter… I was certain she said East...”

“Am I sure if my sense of direction is better than yours ? Or were you talking about my memory ? Cause the answer is “ _absolutely_ ” in both cases.”

“No need to be mean.”

“M’not mean, I’m realistic. Here we are. Where’s the thing ?”

Aziraphale looked around. Old objects looked back at him. So much history. So many precious pieces of the past. To think the country was at war and a bomb could destroy that in the blink of an eye…

The sad part was, if it ever happened, some humans would think it a loss worse than that of the lives disappearing with it.

Something caught his eyes. To a human, it would only be an old metallic box. To the angel, it was shining enticingly.

“Crowley ? Here. I found it.”

Crowley put down the five century old sword he was playing with and joined his friend.

“Well, well… look at that. That’s strong magic.”

“Good Lord” uttered the angel in a breath “Raphael was right, it is powerful. We have to take it away as soon as possible before it hurt someone.”

“What is it supposed to do ? My Sumerian’s rusty.”

“Difficult to say…” Aziraphale was circling around the small pillar where the box was exposed, eyes squinted to decipher the ancient writings “Some of the words faded away… I think it is about… longing ? Or is it… remembering ?”

The angel shuffled in the bag he had brought, and fished out an old, huge book.

“AH-HA !”

Crowley rolled his eyes behind his glasses. He stepped closer to the glowing box while Aziraphale opened his book and turned some pages, clicking his tongue. Outside, rain started to fall. Crowley smiled, like every time he heard rain. Rain was comforting, it always reminded him of…

His finger brushed the carved box.

There was a rush of magic.

* * *

**4004 BC, Eden.**

He was outside, under Aziraphale’s wing. Crowley startled, looked at his friend with wide eyes. Looked about him in panic.

“What the… _fuck_ ? Angel ?”

Aziraphale looked around nervously.

“What? What did you see? Oh dear, are angels heading this way? Maybe you should go!”

“Wh… what? What angels? Where the fuck are we? Why am I wearing these awful clothes? I _burned_ these! Is this… Eden? It… it’s Eden. It’s Eden, angel?”

“Of course it is, what do you want it to be? Are you all right? You don’t seem right...”

The demon spun around, eyes darting everywhere. It was Eden. Definitely. Even the smell, that smell of the first rain ever. He would never forget _that_.

But Eden was… lost. Had been hidden by God, just the day after the humans…

First rain. Eden. Angel’s wing.

Crowley looked at his friend a little more closely, horror growing in his mind. There was a tide about to crush him, he felt it, and he could do nothing against it, nothing but look at the angel and try to convince himself that it had to be a joke. Not a nightmare, impossible. Too realistic. Plus, there was no fire. His nightmares always featured fire.

It was Aziraphale, his open, honest face, his hesitant expression… too hesitant. Too wary. Too unsure. Too _eager_ to please. His heart dropped in his chest. Aziraphale was not eager to please him. He was not that stressed. He was not supposed to be like that. Not with him. It was like… like Aziraphale didn’t… know him.

“Angel… Aziraphale. Is that… is that you ?”

But he already knew. It was Aziraphale.

It wasn’t Aziraphale.

The angel looked at him and frowned.

“How do you know my name ?”

Yep. Stupid enough to protect an unknown demon with his wing, but not missing half a second to pinpoint that little error. Definitely Aziraphale.

Crowley’s first thought was, of course, self recrimination.

_Shit ! He didn’t say his name before the rain ! Stupid demon !_

His second thought was a little more frightening.

_How on Earth am I supposed to come home ?_

* * *

**2020, Middle East.**

Aziraphale felt a rush of power emanating from the artifact, dropped his book and pushed Crowley away, crushing him on the ground. Crowley hissed and clawed at him, twisting under him to escape. Aziraphale seized his hands, panic overflowing him. Crowley didn’t lose control like that unless he was terrified or hurt.

“What happened ? Are you hurt ? Crowley, calm down, it’s me !”

The angel shot a look at the glowing box. It didn’t seem to be doing anything to the demon at the moment. His friend was still squirming under him, and he sat back to give him room, letting go of his hands.

Crowley jumped away and crouched down, waves of rage radiating from him, and Aziraphale had to fight the choking sensation. The demon’s eyes were entirely yellow, which was a clear sign he was experiencing a powerful emotion. His glasses, realised Aziraphale absentmindedly, were crushed on the floor. Crowley spoke in a hateful tone.

“I should have known ! Never trust a bloody angel ! Where did you bring me ?"

“What ? What are you… Crowley ? Are you all right ?”

Aziraphale reached out, but Crowley stepped back and looked at him with hostility.

“You attacked me !” he spat.

Aziraphale lowered his hands, frowning, and hid his rising dread to answer as calmly as possible.

“My dear, I would never hurt you… did you hit your head ?”

The angel seemed genuinely confused, and not aggressive. Crawly uncoiled a little.

“You attacked me” he repeated, in a lower tone, taking in his surroundings.

“Of course not. I pushed you away. That thing was dangerous.”

The angel tilted his head and squinted his eyes. Crawly felt his ethereal energy touching his demonic one. He jumped back.

“What are you doing ?”

“I want to know if you are hurt.”

“I’m not hurt ! Stay away, you freak !” the frightened demon aimlessly shot a wave of occult energy.

Aziraphale gasped and took a step back, his hand shooting to his throat. He looked at Crowley, scanning his face. This was not delirium. His friend’s eyes were darting left and right in a very familiar motion. Crowley wanted to escape. He wanted to escape _from_ _him._

“Crowley. Do you know who I am ?”

“Stop calling me that. My name is Crawly, told you already. Are you deaf ?”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened.

“You… you think that your name… my dear, what year do you think we are ?”

“Year ? What do you mean, stupid ?”

Aziraphale’s face crumbled, and he looked at the artifact with distress. Humanity had invented the concept of years, and time. Time before that just… passed. Nobody kept score on it.

“Oh God… Crowley, did that thing… erase all of your memories ?”

* * *

**4004 BC, Eden.**

“So… you heard me talk with the other angels ?”

“Yep, that’s it. Definitely. Heard them. There was...” Crowley racked his brain. There had been two woman-shaped angels, if he recalled correctly. One on the Northern Gate, the other on the Western one.

The third one, on the South, was a buff guy who probably was one of Gabriel’s BFF’s. Names… bless, he needed at least a name…

“Nedriel ! That was her ! Nedriel ! Remember now ! She called you by name, and I was… as a snake in the Garden, fomenting, you see. Heard it. That’s how I know !”

Aziraphale blinked. He seemed genuinely confused (probably trying to remember an occurrence where Nedriel actually talked to him, thought Crowley with a wince).

“Oh...” let out the angel in a soft voice. “Was it before they all… left ?”

Crowley smiled madly.

“Yes, that’s it. Right before that. Exactly.”

“I see. Yes, they came to… talk to me. Did you...” the angel shot him a glance “did you hear what they said to me ?”

“Nah. didn’t want to hang around. Four angels ? A little too much for my taste.”

He felt a little bad for lying, but after all, he didn’t hear that conversation. Aziraphale had recounted it to him, thousands of years later.

The angel relaxed slightly.

“They… well, they wanted to... convince me to go back with them. To Heaven.”

Ha ! Crowley tried to keep his best poker face. Convince. That was his angel all right, trying to find excuses for that lot of wankers. They’d bullied him into abandoning his post, and he’d declined, time and again. They talked to him for hours, because if one Principality remained to help Adam and Eve, then all of Heaven would look bad. Aziraphale hadn’t been posted on Earth, he simply refused to quit it. Angels had decided to turn their backs on humanity, that deceitful creation that angered God Herself, and Aziraphale was the only one to chose to stay back. A black sheep. Truth was, he’d been abandoned. Didn’t get his first real assignment from Gabriel before 3215 BC. Not a word before that.

“Shit” cursed Crowley under his breath. He felt bad enough for not having known at the time. Now he was facing his best friend and his tentative smile, shielding him (a strange demon) from the fucking rain, aware that the angel would be alone, watching after the first humans, for almost eight hundred years.

Crowley had decided to explore Earth as soon as he’s left Eden. Tempting only two people was annoying, he’d preferred to wait for them to grow and multiply. (Okay, he felt a little guilty about the apple thing and had decided to leave them alone for a while. He hadn’t imaginedthat “Fruit of Knowledge” thingy would go _that_ far).

And apparently demonic influence wasn’t needed at all, since he received his first commendation for pushing a human to invent murder _and_ fratricide.

He wasn’t even on the same continent. Bloody humans.

Aziraphale shuffled a little besides him. He blinked, trying to remember the conversation. Messing with past was not a good idea. He’d watched Back to the Future often enough to know that.

“Sooo… you’re staying here ? Doing… good ?”

“Well… yes, of course. This is my purpose. I will watch after Humanity. I _am_ a Principality.”

Replaying the past was one thing, feeling the same another entirely.

“That you are.” he was supposed to be sarcastic, but couldn’t bring himself to fake that. Anyway, Aziraphale didn’t understand sarcasm in Eden. Took him a while to get the hang of it. A long while.

“And you… will you stay here too ? Doing evil, I imagine ?” the angel tried to sound censuring, but his hopeful face ruined it.

“Yep. Staying too. Indefinitely. You’re stuck with me, apparently.”

He wasn’t supposed to say that, but Aziraphale’s delighted expression was worth it. At least the angel would know he wasn’t the only immortal being stationed on Earth. Maybe it would help him a little. Maybe.

Watching two silhouettes disappear in the desert, the flicker of the sword’s Holy Fire almost impossible to see in the distance, Crowley let silence surround them, like it had at the beginning of time.

His mind, however, was far from silent.

_What can I do ? What happened ? Freaking artifact, that’s why ! I don’t have it here to reverse the spell, it doesn’t even exist yet ! I can’t stay here ! It’s boring here, I already did it once, thank you very much ! There’s no towns, there’s no alcohol, there’s no Bentley ! I want my couch and my cappuccino !_

_Aziraphale will go **mental**. He will **freak** **out !**_

Oh, bless ! Aziraphale ! What happened to him ? Was he trapped in another time too ?

No, couldn’t be. Out of the question. Crowley was the only one to touch the thing, right ?

The angel had to be still in Middle East, with the object. Aziraphale was a bright guy. The brightest, no contest. He would find a way to bring him back. Nothing would stop him from bringing Crowley back from the past.

He just had to wait.

* * *

**2020, Middle East.**

Aziraphale was Very Worried. Crowley didn’t remember him at all, and apparently, he’d forgotten the last six thousand years or so. And he didn’t even trust him enough to let him check on his mind !

“Cro… Crawly ?”

The demon shot him a suspicious glare. He was sitting at the far side of the room, and Aziraphale knew he was still here only because the angel was too close to the door to attempt an exit.

“Could you please at least… let me see if you are hurt. Your memory is deficient, I have to see if it had been sealed or… or… stolen.”

He couldn’t bring himself to say _destroyed_. Couldn’t even think about it. It wasn’t lost, they _would_ find a way.

“Try a more convincing lie, angel. Your story is stupid.”

Aziraphale pinched his lips at the venom in his dear friend’s voice. The name ‘angel’ had never hurt like that before. It was supposed to be a nice name, a caring one.

“If you don’t believe my words… maybe I can prove I bear you no ill will with actions.”

Aziraphale opened his arms and reached inside of himself, shuffling his Grace, unfolding his ethereal form, deploying his wings to access his core, the weak spot every immortal possessed and hid under layers upon layers of protections and shields.

Back at the beginning, before the War, angels didn’t bother to protect their core. They didn’t even trust each other, trust hadn’t been a concept back then, since distrust didn’t exist. They were simply existing, with no fear of dying. That was not the case any more. No angel, no demon would ever bare their core within another’s reach. At least, not the ones with a little self preservation.It was like exposing your jugular artery to a raging mad serial killer.

Crawly scrambled to his feet, gaping.

“F… FUCK ! What are you DOING ? Stop that !”

“I do not want to harm you, Crawly.”

“I could _kill_ you, stupid ! Are you _insane_ ? Stop it !”

The angel smiled.

“I know you would never do it. I trust you. This is not a trap, Crawly. I want to help you.”

“YES, yes okay, got it ! Stop the Heaven what you’re doing !”

Aziraphale slowly folded his angelic form into his corporation again, hiding his core out of reach and out of sight.

“Do you believe me ?”

Crawly let out a shaky breath. He was pressing himself against the wall like he wanted it to swallow him.

“You’re insane. Any demon would have destroyed you.”

“You did not. Now, can I check on you ? Please ?”

It was difficult to say no to these pleading eyes. Crawly walked reluctantly towards the freak. He was either stupid or… or he was telling the truth, and someone had stolen six thousand freaking years from his mind. He didn’t like any of these theories. The angel seemed… all right. Giving his sword and all that. Shielding him with his wing... Difficult to hate him _now_... Would be a shame if he’d been insane.

And a stolen memory ? That was scary. He made a mental note to send the idea Down There. They would love it.

Thing was, Crawly didn’t like thinking he’d lost something. And that angel… he’d just placed his life into Crowley’s hands. No one would do that just to lead a demon into a trap.

“Alright. Go on. Hurry up.”

The angel raised a hand slowly, and reached out for his mind. He delicately explored Crawly’s memories, brushing gently against them without the slightest attempt to pry. Crawly relaxed a little. It seemed like he could… not trust, of course, he was a demon, he trusted no one. But at least… rely on him, a little.

Aziraphale reached the end of the way. The last memory was there. He fought the urge to open it and see what it was, see if it was something, anything having happened lately. But even his concern couldn’t make him do that. These were not his to watch.

“It stops here. This is your last memory.”

Crawly reached for the spot the angel indicated and looked at it.

“Yeah. The water falling from the sky. You stopped it with your wing.”

“The first rain,” murmured the angel absent-mindedly, exploring around, trying to find more… anything more.

“It stops here. There is nothing else. Nothing.”

“Well, yeah. You said I lost it. Why are you so surprised ?”

Crawly didn’t like the angel’s expression. He first looked scared, then sad, and he buried his face in his hands for a few seconds. That didn’t bode well. When Aziraphale spoke, it was in a painful whisper.

“There isn’t any empty space. Nothing has been stolen, or sealed, or even destroyed. There is no void.”

Crawly shrugged.

“So there’s no missing memories, right ? Told ya. I’m fine.”

Aziraphale let his hands drop and stared at the demon before him, his face suddenly blank, his eyes shining and cold.

“Yes. You are fine.”

He looked at the artifact, still glowing merrily on the stone.

“And you are _not_ Crowley.” he added softly.

Crawly didn’t hear him, looking around, whistling as he took in one object after the other. He seemed to have overcome his fright and had apparently decided to have fun, now he knew that nothing bad had happened to him.

“Humans really invented all this ?”

“Yes. So you believe me now ?”

“Course. Why not ? I want to see it. Show me Humanity, angel.”

“Do not call me that. And no, you will stay here. I have a lot of work, and you will not leave my sight.”

Crawly smiled. Aziraphale knew that smile way too well.

“Oh yeah ? Wanna order me ? That’s cute. I’m out of here. I’m sure I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“No ! You can’t go, you don’t understand ! Crowley… I mean, older you, is trapped somewhere, probably in your place ! We _have_ to bring him back !”

But the demon chuckled and sauntered towards the door.

“Let him be, he’s fine. And I think I’ll like it here.”

Aziraphale appeared in front of him, blocking the way out, hands raised and face imploring.

“It will be stealing someone else’s life, Crawly ! You can not want that !”

“It’s not stealing if it’s my life. It’s me you’re talking about. Be a good angel and step away, will you ? I won’t meddle with your blessings, don’t worry. Earth is big enough for the two of us.”

He raised his hand to pat the angel on the shoulder patronizingly, but his hand was slapped away. The angel showed no sign of hesitation any more.

“You will _not_ stay here, Crawly. I will send you back, and in the meantime you will go nowhere !”

Crawly snarled.

“Really ? You think you’re intimidating ? Two minutes ago you were begging for me to kill you, _angel_ !”

“Well maybe you should have seized the opportunity. Do you want to try it now ?”

The demon looked into the ice blue eyes and took a step back, frowning.

“I thought you said we were _friends_.”

“I was wrong. _You_ are not my friend. And if you do not intend to help me bring him back, I will treat you as an enemy.”

Crawly cocked his head. He was torn. One one hand, there was an angel ready to fight, and he doubted Aziraphale could bring himself to kill or discorporate him. Not if he cared that much about future him. He was good at judging these kind of things, and he was fairly certain that angel would never hurt him seriously, even to save his supposed friend. It could be amusing to fight. He could even win, maybe, and discorporating an angel would definitely earn him a commendation.

On the other hand… that angel was a big softie (he _gave_ his sword, for Satan’s sake !) and apparently a real bastard too, turning on him, his future friend, and declaring he would consider him an enemy if he didn’t help. That was ruthless. He could admire that.

Crawly felt oddly proud of future him. He was certain no one would really notice if he never made it back to Eden. It was… agreeable, to know someone cared about him. Would care. Whatever.

He shrugged.

“Alright. I’ll stay for now. What will you do ?”

Aziraphale blinked, and his eyes turned back to their usual blue grey.

“You will ? Really ?”

“Yeah. At least for a while. Don’t sweat.”

The angel beamed.

“Oh, thank you !”

“Shut up. I’m not helping you. Just staying around. And I’ll go if I’m bored, so hurry up, stupid.”

“I will ! Thank you so much !”

* * *

**4004 BC, Eden.**

The rain had stopped, and Aziraphale shook his wings before folding them. Crowley felt sick. This was the moment when they’d parted. He was supposed to turn into a snake and crawl away in the desert.

No. Way.

He had to stay here. That’s where he’d landed, and he probably should wait in this spot. Thing was… thing was it was the angel’s post. And he was pretty sure Aziraphale had told him God was going to pop in in only a few hours. He so did not want to be there to see that.

_Oh, hi, Almighty. How are you today ? Me ? Nah, I’m nothing, just wasted Humanity with an apple and made you very angry._

God would see he was coming from the future, right ? Was six thousand years considered a safe statute of limitations ?

Yes, of course it was. Not like the Almighty could be vindictive.

Oh, bless… he had to get out of here. Or should he say “to get out of now” ?

_Aziraphale, do something !_

And just like that, something happened.

* * *

**2020, 11h59 PM, Middle East / 2020, 3h00 PM, London (same day).**

Aziraphale had spent hours bent over his books. He sat on the museum’s dusty floor, leaning back on a wall , while Crawly napped inside a sarcophagus.

Thank God he had brought every book about Sumer and magic he had in his shop. He was starting to have a good understanding of the writings engraved on the box. He just missed two, that had almost completely faded away… if only he could…

_//Something happened. Only God felt it.//_

...His book wasn’t in his hands anymore. He blinked owlishly.

“Angel ?” asked Crowley’s voice.

“Mmm ?”

He looked around, searching for the book… something was odd. He wasn’t sitting on the floor any more… it was… this place was… his booksh...

“Oh, thank G… Sa… you did it !”

Aziraphale’s head snapped up. He looked at Crawly, who was jumping from the couch, and those eyes… there were a lot of emotions in those eyes.

“Crowley ! You’re back !”

The angel was able to move very fast when needed, and in less than a second he was on his feet and rushing to his friend, grabbing his shoulders and looking at him in equal amount of relief and concern.

“Are you all right ? Are you fine ? Where were you ?”

“I was in Eden. It was so strange, like… did you get back to the bookshop to bring me back ?”

Aziraphale frowned, and finally looked around him.

It was the bookshop. He’d realised he was in the bookshop, of course, but Crowley’s return had been the more pressing information for his brain to process. The artifact was nowhere to be seen. A rush of angelic Grace tingled at his senses, and he watched as a golden envelope landed on his desk. He took it with trembling fingers, opened it.

Crowley sighed.

“Raphael’s letter ?”

Aziraphale nodded. “Raphael’s letter.”

“So we are back at this morning.”

“We are back at this morning.”

The two friends exchanged a look. Crowley’s expression was “inwardly terrified but trying to appear casually bored”. Aziraphale’s was “flabbergasted, trending towards irate.”

Crowley shut his eyes like a child wishing very hard that reality would obey and be different once he opened them again.

“No, not a Time Loop. I hate Time Loops. I said I didn’t want any Time Loop ever again. Didn’t I say it ?”

He opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling.

“DIDN’T I ?”


	2. Day one-second attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys tries to fix Time.  
> Strangely, this is not an easy task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a fun story !!  
> Again, I will have to bring a lot of fluff and humour in the last chapters !

**2020, London**

“A time loop! A shitty, freaking time _fucking_ loop!”

Crowley was on a rant, it helped him keep the gravity of the situation at bay. As long as he could yell and curse, everything would be _on hold_.

(Thing is, even if he didn’t know it, his conviction in this and his prodigious imagination made it real. As long as Crowley could rant, bad things wouldn’t happen. Shame no one ever noticed it, and never would.)

Aziraphale was looking at something captivating on the floor. Had been looking at it for a while now.

“Shit! To Heaven with that! I hate time! Angel, what the _heck_ is so interesting on your dusty carpet?” snapped the demon, needing to get angry at something, and a little annoyed at his friend’s lack of empathy. If there was a time to swear, it was now. He didn’t ask much, a ‘bugger’ would suffice. Just to feel supported. He could even accept an ‘oh, dear'.

A little less frantic after yelling at God for a good two minutes without the slightest interruption, he finally took the time to look at his surroundings.

It was the bookshop all right, no need to focus on _that_. No, something was odd, and it wasn’t the shop.

There should at least have been a ‘oh dear’ he realised. Or even a ‘dear Lord’. Not _nothing_.

“Angel? Ideas? What should we do?” he snapped his fingers at his friend’s face. (Not magically. An _actual_ snap. It was unsettling to do it without summoning his dark powers. He resolved on the spot never to do it ever again).

Aziraphale finally looked up, and Crowley’s breath caught. He looked dejected, fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt.

Oh. This wasn’t good at all.

“I… I don’t know” confessed a downcast angel. “I have no idea what to do. Time loops are… they are so _dangerous_ , Crowley. There are so many books about time. Almost every occult and ethereal manuscript ever written mentions travelling through time at one point, and you know I never read it, I always skipped it. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to start !”

 _All right. All right_ , thought Crowley. _I can take care of that. I can’_ _t fix a millennium_ _old_ _artifact’_ _s curse_ _, but I can fix an angel_. (It wasn’t a figure of speech. He could fix precisely ONE angel in the whole universe.)

If Aziraphale didn’t know how to get out of this one, they were so doomed. The thing was… messing with Time was a big No No in Heaven. God had been really firm on that one, probably one of the reasons every demon acquired some sort of time control power during their Fall. And Aziraphale, if he never had been too keen on blindly obeying Heaven’s dictates, had always respected God’s will. His thirst for knowledge drove him to read every single book he could have put his hands on… except when it came to Time manipulation. Afraid to fail Her, afraid to cross a line.

He grabbed the angel by the shoulders, leaning in to be at eye level.

“Aziraphale ? Angel ? I can’t break the loop, I’m stuck in it. I am stuck in the past, and you’re the only one who can bring me back. Not the moment to have a crisis !”

Aziraphale looked at him like he was drowning. Crowley knew you could drown in a dry bookshop. He spoke in a calm and reassuring voice, one he almost never used, and only with his angel.

“It’s gonna be fine. I know it will be. You just have to breathe and calm down. If anyone can break a tiny time loop, it’s you, angel. You will find the solution, bring me home, and we will drink a lot to celebrate. I will even go to that new bakery to buy you one of these cupcakes you’re so crazy about every morning for a year.”

A mirthless chuckle escaped Aziraphale’s lips.

“The one on Regent street ?”

“Yep, that one. Every morning. Cross my heart. I’ll even queue up and wait my turn like a human.”

The angel offered a trembling smile.

“Well if that is the case, I have no choice but to break that spell, haven’t I ?”

Crowley grinned.

“I knew it would convince you.”

First, Crowley tried to recall everything he knew about time loops. It wasn’t a lot. Crowley only had been witness to one of these, and it wasn’t his fondest memory.

Time was not to be trifled with. If someone ever found a way to enter an era that wasn’t their, Universe would only tolerate them a few hours before rejecting them. If the traveler didn’t find a mean to come back where he belonged, a time loop would occur, giving him an opportunity to do something to set things right. Crowley had been sent into the past some fifteen minutes before midnight. And it was now almost two in the afternoon. They had a little over nine hours to work things out together before the spell would occur again, then Aziraphale would be alone with Crawly for a few more hours while Crowley would have to relive Eden and the first rain until the loop brought him back to the bookshop and early afternoon.

“So… the loop has nothing to do with the artifact ?” asked Aziraphale slowly, processing the information.

“Nope. A loop is always the result of time magic used incorrectly. The box was created to send someone’s spirit into his own past for a little while, I guess. Why, I have no idea… but it has to be that.”

“How can you be so sure ?”

Crowley shuffled his feet. A talk about feelings. How undemonic.

“It was raining, and I was thinking of Eden when I touched it. I guess it’s what’s triggered it. There must be a correct way to use it, humans can’t do that kind of magic easily. There has to be a ritual or something like that. A manual instruction of sorts, with the way to end the magic and switch spirits back in their respective time. That’s what we have to find, to learn how to break the loop.”

The angel nodded, his brow creasing like every time he was thinking hard.

“Your occult power and your memories triggered it without the need for a ritual. I always told you you have too much imagination, dear boy...”

They exchanged a weak smile.

“And of course staying away from the box would be too simple...”

“Sorry, angel. Time spell are tricky that way. Once activated, they don’t reset, and that affects every living being around them when the magic occured. That’s why we both remember everything. Even if I stay away from that box today, I’ll be sent back in Eden tonight.

“What if it isn’t rectified ? If the human that traveled doesn’t find a way out even after hundreds of attempts ? I imagine the loop can not be truly endless ?”

That was a question Crowley didn’t want to answer, but he couldn’t really avoid it.

“Ngk. No. Not… exactly.”

The angel arched an eyebrow without a word.

“I don’t know how many days we have. It’s kind of random. Could be hundreds… could be less. If the traveler doesn’t find his way back before it stops… he is stuck there.”

Aziraphale looked at him in anguish before schooling his features.

“So… maybe today is our only chance.”

“Yeah… maybe… but I doubt it, honestly angel. We probably have a lot of tries.”

“No time to waste. We need to figure exactly what that object’s purpose was. I have deciphered almost all the writings on it. It is mostly warnings. Use it correctly, use it wisely, that sort of vague, unhelpful nonsense.”

Crowley watched as his friend opened his notepad to work on his translation again. He fidgeted a few seconds, wondering how to help. Research was not his domain, and he didn’t like the idea of doing nothing to get himself out of this mess.

“I’m gonna make you some tea. Back in a minute.” he grumbled before sauntering towards the stairs.

Aziraphale only hummed, and didn’t even notice when the demon put his winged mug on his desk. It took him several hours before taking his first sip, miraculously hot. He drained the drink in one go.

“We have to go to that museum again, Crowley.”

The demon was browsing through the bookshop’s shelves, pulling books that looked interesting. So far, he didn’t have any luck with his perusal, but it was at least keeping him occupied.

“What ? Why ? We don’t have to, the loop will occur anyway, even if we stay here. I’ll go back in past even without touching the box now that I started it.”

“I have to see that box again. To know if it is one of the objects I have read about today.”

Crowley nodded. Good. The angel already had leads. He focused on the museum and appeared here in a blink, ready to snap his fingers to get rid of any annoying human visiting. There was none.

Behind him, Aziraphale was already opening one of the multiple books he had brought, revolving around the metallic box to scrutinize it.

* * *

**2020, Middle East**

Aziraphale snapped his book shut and glared at it like it had betrayed him. That kind of look, thought Crowley, was the exact one he reserved for his leaf-spotted plants.

“I didn’t find it, it is not in any of these blasted books !”

Aziraphale swearing was one of Crowley’s favourite things in the world. But the angel talking like that about books was very disturbing. He closed his own volume, and tried to convey a smile.

“It’s okay, angel. There are a lot of other books. I’m sure we’ll find it eventually.”

“But we have to find it _now_ ! Before you go ! We have to understand how this thing is supposed to work _now_ !”

Despair was not a good colour on his angel, decided Crowley.

“Hey, we have time. If it’s not today, we’ll figure it out tomorrow. All right ?”

Aziraphale didn’t answer that, looking at his pocket watch with resignation. Only a few minutes left. He sighed, put his book down, and looked at his friend in worry.

“You are right. Do mind how you go, will you?”

“I’ll be fine. Just going to look at the rain and chat a little with old you. don’t worry. You should be the careful one, though. You will be stuck here with someone you don’t know.”

Aziraphale snorted. “What should I be afraid of? Do you really think old you would attack me? Do not be ridiculous.”

“I am a demon. You know I’m no saint. Plus, he will have no memory of last day. We both are the only one to be aware of the time loop. So he will find himself in a strange place and won’t like it. You will have to handle him.”

“You will never attack anyone without provocation, and I do not intend to provoke him. I will just… try to explain things to him as rapidly as possible. He seemed willing enough to wait last time.”

“All right. See you later then. And good luck with the books.”

Crowley knew the moment was closing in. He slouched against the wall, trying his best to appear composed and unafraid.

Aziraphale opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, his face hardening in that stubborn fashion that was equally terrifying and exhilarating to the demon, depending on him being the recipient of that stare or not.

“I will find how to break that loop, Crowley. I will, I swear.”

“I know you will, angel. Sorry about the mess. Shouldn’t have touched the blessed thing. Raphael warned us to be careful around it.”

“My dear, the day you will start to follow an Archangel’s advice is the day that pigs will fly.”

Crowley grinned. The metallic box glowed, and the demon’s smile froze on his lips as he took in his surroundings.

“Where are we ? What did you do ?”

Aziraphale sighed inwardly, and tried to appear as reassuring as possible.

“I didn’t do anything, Crawly. You have… traveled here. I will explain it to you.”

* * *

**4004 BC, Eden**

Crowley looked to his right, and Aziraphale offered him a tight little smile. He smiled in return before looking at Adam and Eve’s silhouettes in the distance. His clothes were scratchy, he missed his glasses and he hadn’t had hair that long in centuries. He didn’t like any of that.

Why ? Why had he felt nostalgia about that day ? There wasn’t much to feel nostalgic about. Yes, that was the day they "met", yes, that was the first of many times he had reassured the angel and helped him overcome his doubts. But it didn’t mean he wanted to go back and live it again. Stupid memories, stupid rain. He hated to see Aziraphale look at him like that, like he didn’t know what to say. Like he didn’t know him at all.

The thoughts he had pushed aside all day crushed in on him all at the same time.

What if he ended up stuck here ? What was he supposed to do ? Live all of it again ? Thousands of years, alone with his memories, trying to relive their history to get back to what they were ? Was it even possible ? Experiencing something for the first time and re-enacting it was not the same. It would be a lie. It would be wrong. He knew the angel way too well now, and would have to pretend to get to know him… would have to ignore his distress more than once, because he didn’t know him enough to notice it the first time, and changing something, even the slightest thing, could ruin it all. And not only the good things, not only the getting to know each other, but every fight, every cruel word they threw at each other over the centuries would have to happen again.

This was dreadful, probably one of his worst nightmare, one he didn’t even think about before.

An idea landed, cold and terrifying.

If he did get stuck here… would future Aziraphale remember, or would his memories be replaced by whatever farce he would have to play for six thousand years ?

* * *

**2020, Middle East / 2020, 3h00 PM, London (same day)**

“Soooo… you’re saying I’m in the future. Thousands of years in the future. And we are both unemployed. No more work to do for Hell ?”

“No more work. You are free from Hell, and I am free from Heaven. We are… on our own side, to put it simply.”

Crawly nodded while looking closely at a gold necklace.

“I want to see Humanity. All these objects are fascinating. I want to see more.”

“You can not, Crawly. The less you see, the better. And you do not know a thing about this world. Stay here, please. I really need to focus on my research, and I can not leave you alone.”

Crawly tilted his head. The angel had showed him memories. Granting him access to them was already a proof of trust, but the memories in themselves convinced him completely. Aziraphale was eager to break that time loop, and it was (kind of) for him.

“Alright. I’ll stay here. Probably take a little nap.”

“Good, thank you so much !”

Crawly smirked.

_No, thank **you** , angel… for showing me all of these interesting memories._

He had no intention of hindering Aziraphale’s work. It was clear to him that he and the angel were close, even if he had a little trouble understanding how a demon and an angel could become _that_ close.

He liked the guy, and didn’t want to worry him. If the memories he had been granted access to had taught him something, it was that when engrossed in one of these book things, that angel was dead to the world.

And since he wanted to see said world, he just had to wait…

It didn’t take long. Aziraphale was lost in his book only one hour later.

Time to go. There was a whole world to discover, and he didn’t have a lot of time to do it. The demon lurked into the shadows, careful not to make any abrupt move.

Blissfully unaware that he was near a war zone, Crawly slithered out of the museum and walked the desert streets, tossing his glasses aside. He wanted to see everything without hindrance, and these things were obscuring his vision. He really wondered why future him bothered with it.

There was fear in the air. Humans were all locked in their homes, not a soul in the street.

It took him a while before sensing a spirit not far away, one that wasn’t hiding behind closed doors. He headed in this direction, curious.

A small sound had him snap his head to his right.

A woman. With a sharp stick. He grinned and advanced, wondering what temptation was the best to use there.

There was a cry and the stick was thrust at him, scraping his arm. Some drops of black blood ran free.

Crowley hissed and bared his fangs. That filthy human had it coming ! He raised his hand, conjuring Hell Fire to the tip of his fingers… and froze.

Facing him, the human fast asleep in his arms and ensconced in a cocoon of white feathers, was Aziraphale. The angel looked furious.

“What in Hell were you about to do, Crawly ?”

No need to talk that brusquely, thought an irritated demon. That human had attacked first after all!.

“She attacked me. Me! She should know better than to attack a demon. I was about to punish her, naturally.”

“Of course she attacked you! There is pillaging and death everywhere here, and… oh, for the love of God, you didn’t even cover your eyes! What did you want her to do? She is living in the street, she is alone, she is a _child_ , Crawly! How dare you attack an orphan child ?”

Crawly blinked, looked at the sleeping human.

“Naaaaah. Children are small. They have to be, to fit in their mother’s belly. This one is a grown human.”

Of course, thought Aziraphale, feeling suddenly better. Crawly hadn’t seen children yet. He had no idea what they looked like.

“She may be tall, but she still is a child. Look into her spirit.”

Crawly looked. Took a step back.

“I… I didn’t know she was an innocent. Why did she attack me? She must have known she had no chances against me.”

The angel huffed.

“You are ridiculous. Humans don’t know you, Crawly. They are too many, and they are not aware demons are roaming Earth. This isn’t Eden any more, I told you! Do you realise what you have almost done?”

Crawly grimaced. Well, yeah, he wasn’t very proud of himself. Hurting innocents was not his thing. Anyway, no need to rub it in, right? All was well after all.

“But I didn’t, okay? She’s fine, and now I know what a child looks like, so it won’t happen again.”

“You are damn right it won’t! You are coming back with me!”

“But angeeeeel!” whined Crawly in a tone so familiar that for a second, Aziraphale almost thought his friend was back.

“No buts. Back to the museum. I have found what I was looking for and I want to understand what I have to do to break that loop. But I can not concentrate on deciphering the exact ritual if I have to appear everywhere to stop you from attacking humans or getting discorporated.”

Crawly made a huge show of rolling his eyes and grumbling, but followed the angel back in the museum. It took him a minute before realising Aziraphale was empty handed. The human wasn’t in his arms any more.

“Where’s the girl?”

Frowning, Aziraphale took the book he had abandoned, and got back to his reading.

“I left her there. I couldn’t bring her with us.”

“But… she’s living alone, and there is violence… she has to fight to survive. You should do something for her, angel!”

Said angel shot him a glare that sent a cold shiver down his spine.

“I can not do anything for her. I have to save my Grace for the ritual. Anyway, the world will reset. It would have been a waste.”

Crawly spluttered. “But… but… you’re an angel!”

“I can’t help every sad soul living a hard life, my dear. I wish I could, but it is impossible. I will do something for that young lady, once I take care of that time loop.”

But Crawly didn’t like the idea of a child alone in the cold and in the dark.

“You should put humans first. It’s your duty, you’re a Principality.”

This was enough to put Aziraphale over the edge. He was having a bad day (had it twice in a row now), needed to concentrate on his work, and had worn out his patience entirely. And here was Crawly, knowing nothing, yet criticizing him? That was not to be borne! He didn’t even notice the change of light and surroundings. He was to angry and worried for that.

“My duty is to understand that bloody book and bring Crowley back ! I will not stop until I have fixed that, do you hear me? If Crowley doesn’t come back, then Humanity will be the least of my...”

Aziraphale’s head slammed into a bookshelf, and he stared at two yellow, furious eyes. Hands were grabbing at his collar in an iron grip.

“What issss wrong with you, sssstupid ? Do you want to Fall ?”

The angel sighed heavily, all the tension draining from his body. He knew this shelf. He knew that light, and that comforting smell of old paper and cocoa. More than anything, he knew those eyes. There were emotions in them that Crawly couldn’t summon yet.

“Oh Crowley… glad to see you, my dear.”


	3. Day one-third attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another loop.  
> Crowley has a secret he's been hidding for 6000 years.  
> But today, truth will be told, with consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this particular story in mind for a long time. Wanted to write a one shot with it, but...  
> Crowley back to Eden ? I had to bring that out here !

Middle East, 2020

“Really, Crowley, that is not necessary...”

“Just shut up, you’re distracting me.”

“I am not comfortable with that. I can handle it perfectly, my dear.”

Crowley stopped writing and looked up, so poker faced his picture could have illustrated the word “impassibility” in the dictionary.

“Oh, you can, can you ? You know what’s funny, Aziraphale ? I thought so too. I told myself _Aziraphale is clever, he will find a way to keep old me in line_.”

“I was ! I did ! I only turned my back for a second and...”

Crowley snorted. Aziraphale balled his fists.

“I _know_ I messed up. I will be cautious this time. I will not let him out of my sight.”

“No you won’t,” approved Crowley, fighting the urge to answer _you didn’t mess up, he conned you, it’s not your fault._

He needed the angel to be wary of Crawly. And guilt always had been the best way to push Aziraphale to obtain what you wanted from him.

The demon started writing again, the white chalk a stark contrast with the dark wood of the floor.

 _Bless_ , he was such a bastard. The worst friend in the history of Universe. Using guilt to manipulate his angel, after everything Heaven had done to him using that exact method.

“You know why you won’t let him out of here, angel ? Because he won’t be able to, that’s why. Now...”

He got back on his feet. That would do. The circle was not perfect, but he wasn’t a bloody painter.

“I’ll step in, then when he takes my place, he will have to stay in that circle. You will be able to work, and he will only be slightly inconvenienced until the loop brings him back to Eden.”

Aziraphale was clearly distressed. _Bother_.

“I cannot keep him prisoner ! This is awful ! Oh, Crowley, please erase that thing.”

“Nope. Stop being… _you_ , for a minute ! Work with me here, angel ! You can’t get distracted. Promise me you won’t set him free. I’m counting on you, here.” He added what he knew would convince his friend. “I don’t want to know I killed children because you were too nice, Aziraphale.”

The angel took a shaky breath and nodded miserably. Crowley crushed a new wave of guilt.

It was for the best. It was. Old him was dangerous, and he could _hurt_ Aziraphale. He should have thought about a devil’s trap sooner.

“Don’t trust him, angel. Don’t listen to him. He’s not… he’s not _me_ yet, you see ?”

His friend looked up at this, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You’ve always been you, Crowley. Even then, I never feared you. He may not have all our memories, but he _is_ you. And you would never hurt me.”

Crowley looked at him, his mouth working silently, words dying on his lips.

He couldn’t. Not after six fucking thousand years. Maybe he should have told the truth right at the beginning. Maybe in Eden… or before the flood.

But now ? He had no idea how Aziraphale would react to _that_ information.

“Almost time, my dear.”

Crowley winced. _Already_ ?

“You… take care, Crowley. And do not worry. I will find the way.” The angel waved at the books scattered on the floor. “I am coming close to the solution, I can feel it.”

“Good. You too, be careful, hey ?” grumbled the demon, trying to sound casual.

Aziraphale smiled softly.

Crowley stepped into the circle and immediately felt the strong _pull_ of power, chaining him on the spot. Good.

“S’okay, angel. Not even painful. Do not let him-”

Eden, 4004 BC

“-out.”

The angel blinked in confusion.

“What did you say ?”

“Ah… nothing, was just talking to myself.”

Aziraphale smiled nervously before looking back at the little fire in the distance.

“Oh, I do hope they are warm enough.”

Crowley pondered. He had often wondered at what would have happened, had he been honest that first day.

Should he try ? Did he really want to know ? The angel would forget once the loop ended, after all, right ?

This was… tempting.

“Angel ?”

Once again, the blue eyes turned to him.

“I… There’s something I want to tell you. Wanted to do it for a long time...”

A frown of confusion. Of course. They only just met.

Except they hadn’t. That was the crux of the matter, right ?

“You know… today, when we talked, it… it wasn’t the first time I saw you… I mean… what I mean is… I… we met before. In… in Heaven, you see.”

The angel gasped.

“Dear Lord ! Oh, Crawly, I… I am so sorry ! Did we know each other ? Who were you ? I didn’t recognise you, I am so so...”

“No ! No, nope, we didn’t… we never talked ! Don’t freak out ! I just… I just... you know. Saw you, before.”

“Oh. I see.” The angel was clearly relieved. He tilted his head with curiosity. “When was that ?”

Crowley gritted his teeth. _Here goes nothing_.

“That day. It was… _that_ day.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened.

* * *

Middle East, 2020

“Let me _OUT_ of thiss… thing !”

Aziraphale didn’t turn. He really, really wanted to. But he’d made a promise, and he was so close. So close to finding the right spell.

“You _fucker_ ! I knew you were as rotten assss the others ! What will it be ? Holly Water ? What are you waiting for ?”

“I have no intention to harm you !” spluttered Aziraphale, finally giving in to the urge to turn around.

 _Oh, dear._ He wasn’t supposed to talk to Crawly. But the demon seemed to think he’d been trapped to be destroyed.

Crawly snorted. “Way to go, then. That’s sso reassssuring. No intention to harm me...”

“It is not what it seems… I will not hurt you, you have my word. You just have to wait a little and you will be free again.”

“Oh, how very nice of you, angel. That’ssss really compasssssionnate, imprisoning me jussst for a little while.”

“You… you do not know everything ! This is for your own good, I swear ! I know you cannot trust me right now, you only just met me, but...”

“No I didn’t. I didn’t _only_ just meet you, you ssstupid angel.”

Aziraphale frowned.

“What ? But… I thought you were coming from Eden… I mean, what year is it, to you ?”

“I don’t understand and I don’t care. You think we just met ? Well here’s a shocker : I’ve met you before. I saw what you _did_.”

“What… I did ?” The angel tilted his head, clearly confused. “What… what do you mean ?”

“That day,” snarled the demon through gritted teeth. “That day, in Heaven. Just before I… I saw you. You were there, with your sword. Saw you clear as day. Saw what you did.”

Aziraphale had forgotten how to breath. Not that he needed it.

“Oh… I… I see.”

“ _Do you_ now ? Do you _really_ see ?”

The angel knew his friend enough to recognise his every emotion. That was hatred, and it was aimed at him.

* * *

Eden, 4004 BC

“It wasn’t your flaming sword then. Just a silver one, very shiny.”

The angel nodded, his eyes firmly set on the horizon.

“Yes. I was still acting as a cherub back then.”

He didn’t add anything. Crowley cleared his throat.

“Well… I… I was on the ground. My wings were starting to burn and I couldn’t move. And there was this angel a little way away. And a demon too. They were dying, probably stabbed each other. That’s when I saw you, with your sword.”

The sword. Crowley remembered it so clearly. Never had he hated an object as he’d hated that one. Aziraphale closed his eyes, letting the rain run freely down his face.

“And you… and you reached down, and you took the angel’s hand and you...”

“Healed him.” finished Aziraphale in his place.

“Yeah. And then you turned to the demon, and you… you...”

Crowley stopped, his voice dying in his throat. The bitter feeling was back. It was the memory of it, really, nothing more, but the memory alone made him sick. Hatred. Such a strong, deep loathing, accompanying him for years, all his first years in Hell. That anger had been his saviour, fueling him when fighting was the only solution, helping him survive until Satan himself declared someone had to be sent to Earth to cause some trouble with God’s newest creations.

Aziraphale opened his eyes and looked at him questioningly.

“What did I do to the demon, Crawly?”

They both knew the answer, but Crowley had to be the one to say it.

“You healed him too.” He answered softly, painfully.

* * *

Middle East, 2020

“I don’t understand… why are you so angry, Crawly?”

“Angry ? I’m not _angry_! Anger is nothing compared to what it felt like, seeing a fucking _angel_ go directly against Heaven’s orders like you did! I heard it, loud and clear! We all heard it ! Remember?”

Aziraphale looked away. That day had been the worst of his existence. Of course he remembered. Every tiny, excruciating detail.

“Destroy as many falling angels as possible before they go.” He answered with difficulty.

Crawly smiled. It was not a nice smile.

“Destroy as many of us as possible before we can become enemies. I was there, I heard it. And I saw you, and your… your freaking _sword_. So shiny. So clean, you _blessed_ angel! Did you even fight at all?”

“I did not,” murmured Aziraphale, still looking away. He had the dreadful feeling this conversation was not going to be pleasant.

“You did not,” repeated the demon calmly. “You didn’t fight, and you healed a demon right in front of me and you didn’t Fall.”

“So this is why you are so angry. Because I am not… fallen...”

Crawly chuckled darkly.

“Oh no, it’s not only that. You… you healed that demon without even thinking about it, right in front of me. And then I… I felt the ground under me… disappear, and...”

“Oh, my dear, dear boy,” whispered Aziraphale, his heart breaking.

“Down there, all the other demons hated Heaven and that bunch of bastards who started killing us, _their brothers and sisters,_ just because the order had been given. They hated them all, because angels were no better than us, and still they thought they were right and freaking _good_! And I wanted to feel the same, but you… you had to do that in front of me, make me see how _compassionate_ and perfectly _angelic_ you were.”

These words were heavy with dark sarcasm. Aziraphale winced.

“I wanted to hate them all too, to think it was _unfair_ , that we didn’t deserve that, to think that _none_ of you were better than us! But _you_ had to go and show me that I was kicked out for a reason, and that was because I wasn’t _good_ enough. Good angels like you didn’t Fall, and angels like us… well they deserved what happened to them, right?”

“Crowley...”

“Shut up, that’s not even my name! You can’t even remember my _name_ correctly! What kind of a jackass are you? You want to know why I came to talk to you today?”

Aziraphale didn’t want to know. He was sure he didn’t want to know at all.

“I sensed your doubts. You were doubting yourself, and I knew I only had to go and talk to you and push you a little to make you believe you did wrong with that sword thing. I wanted to make you Fall. Then I would have been at peace.”

“But you didn’t,” uttered Aziraphale, feeling like grasping at straws. “You didn’t push. You comforted me.”

“Yeah, well, look where it took me!” yelled the demon, pointing at the circle of chalk with a sneer. “I should have pushed. Fuck, I won’t hesitate ever again, angel! I swear to Satan, I’ll bring you down even if it takes me eternity.”

* * *

Eden, 4004 BC

“You have to understand that I wasn’t thinking clearly. You were healing the wounded, be they angel or demon, and it was the right thing to do. Even if you weren’t following God’s orders, I’m convinced it was right.”

Aziraphale shot him a glance.

“It wasn’t God’s orders,” he said.

Crowley gaped at him.

“Whot? But… I heard it. I heard the order.”

“Not coming from God. The Archangel’s council delivered the order. God… She didn’t talk that day. She only...”

“Made us Fall.”

The angel nodded guiltily.

“Oh, that’s… I didn’t know that. I thought She… anyway, not important. I was… kind of angry. A little. At you.”

“At me? I do not understand. Why?”

Crowley waved helplessly.

“Because… because you disobeyed and you stayed an angel. Because I wanted to hate Heaven and then you had to act so… so _nice_. I don’t think I would have healed an angel that day. Fuck, I know I would never have! And demons were killing angels all around us, and still you were helping them… and I didn’t.”

“Oh, but it was not the same! Of course it was not!”

“Why not? We were both there, we were the same. You healed and I… I killed that day, angel.”

There. He’d said it. He had killed. Not like Lucifer and Hastur, not with glee, definitely not finishing off the wounded. But he had killed that day for the first time, he didn’t really had a choice, but still…

He’d killed again since then. Without the slightest remorse even (Ligur got what he deserved). But that day in Heaven… It had been awful.

Aziraphale turned to him fully.

“But Crawly… you were _Falling_. Heaven had ordered your _death_. Of course you had to fight!”

Crowley blinked.

“Hng?”

“You had no choice. If you… if you killed someone that was trying to destroy you, then… then it was their own fault. They shouldn’t have.”

“That’s… angel, that’s really nice, but I don’t think you’d have done it even if you’d been Falling yourself.”

“Then I would be dead. I am glad you are not.” declared Aziraphale with conviction. “Even if you are an enemy, of course,” he added in a rush, suddenly remembering who he was talking to.

Crowley looked away to hide a smile.

“Of course.”

* * *

Middle East, 2020

Crawly was silent since his last outburst. This was a good thing, thought Aziraphale, scribbling furiously into his notebook.

Reading and researching always helped him to shut his mind to unpleasant thoughts, and he really, really needed to read, so this was good. This was probably the best day to learn about Crowley’s feelings about him when they had met.

Yes, probably.

He opened another book at one of the pages he had shamelessly dog-eared (this was a desperate situation).

There it was, he realised. That was it, he’d done it. Everything was falling into place.

He felt relief overflowing him. He could bring Crowley back now. Just one more day, and everything would get back to normal.

He put his notebook and pencil down, knowing the act of writing down the ritual had engraved it in his memory. Then he stared at his pocket watch for the remaining hour, waiting for his return to the bookshop.

* * *

Soho, 2020

Like every other time, Crowley found himself sprawled on the sofa. Good. He was back again, and maybe this time the angel would have found something. Of course he would have, Aziraphale could find anything.

He jumped on his feet and called.

“Angel ? You here ?”

Aziraphale had to be sitting at his desk, like every other time.

He _was_ there. But something was off.

“Angel ? You all right ?”

“Oh, welcome back, my dear,” answered his friend without looking up. “I found the ritual, let me just finish writing it for you.”

“Angel… look at me.”

“I have to finish this, Crowley.”

“Look at me, Aziraphale !”

The angel’s head snapped up. There was hurt, and there was guilt, and worse than anything there was betrayal written all over his face.

Oh, this was _so not good_.

Crowley closed his eyes in defeat.

“What did he tell you, angel ?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is already half finished ! I was stuck on chapter 3, I don't know why, but apparently it's over, wich is good, because that story HAS to be finished before february. I have great plans for february, my friends ! I hope you'll like them !


	4. Day one-fourth attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final loop ! Our boys are trying to fix things. Will they succeed ?

Soho, 2020

“What did he tell you?” repeated Crowley anxiously when his friend didn’t answer.

Aziraphale looked down at his hands.

“Is this really necessary?” he asked tonelessly.

“Fuck, yeah! It is! Talk to me, angel!”

The despair in Crowley’s voice was palpable. Aziraphale sighed.

“This is not important. Really, it isn’t.”

“It is. You wouldn’t make this face if it wasn’t.”

The angel started writing again and didn’t answer. Crowley was starting to feel frantic. He had to DO something. _Fix this. Fix this_ _ **now**_ _!_

“I… I know it doesn’t look good. It isn’t. But that was a long time ago, and… I didn’t know you then, and I stopped feeling like that the second you told me you gave your sword away… and then you sheltered me, and it was… it was the first time someone did something nice for me.”

“I am sure this is not true,” answered Aziraphale calmly. “Angels were always doing things for each other. Grooming and such.”

Crowley’s hands slammed on the desk as he loomed over his friend.

“That wasn’t _nice_! Nice people don’t turn on their family without remorse _seconds_ after hearing an order to kill!”

Aziraphale put his pen down. Crowley cursed himself under his breath. Oh, perfect. Bloody perfect. Such a good moment to ask for a fight. He breathed deeply, and softened his voice.

“I think I always knew being angry at you was stupid, but... I needed it. Needed a target for all these feelings. And God seemed so far away. It was so much easier to simply…”

“Hate me.”

Crowley cringed.

“Hate is a little strong.”

“It was hatred. I know it was. I am not stupid, Crowley.”

“Never said you were, angel.”

Aziraphale sent him a dubious look.

 _Oh, right. Armageddon. “_ _how can someone so clever be so stupid?”_ _Forgot that one._

“Well, you’re not,” added the demon with a spark of hope in his chest, because that dubious look was one he’d seen a lot, and it was one of his favourites. The _I perfectly know you are lying, but I won’t say a thing_ look. This wasn’t a look you gave to someone you never wanted to talk to again.

Aziraphale nodded slightly.

“Angel… I was the stupid one. I was scared and I needed someone to focus on.”

“I am not mad at you for feeling that, Crowley. That was a perfectly understandable reaction.”

Crowley frowned.

“What do you mean, understandable? You can’t understand me hating you for no reason. _I_ don’t understand!”

Aziraphale chuckled. Really chuckled, a little tiredly, yes, but still.

“You are always stronger when you are angry. You need it to help you survive. Did it… did it help you ? Hating me?”

This was asked in such a fragile voice that Crowley wanted to lie, and lie again. But these bright blue eyes he knew so well were asking for the truth, and there was no running away from that. He remembered his first months in Hell. It was chaos, fear and pain everywhere, and so much deaths. Every demon trying to survive, and most of them convinced that surviving meant destroy everything that wasn’t themselves.

The anger had fuelled him, giving him something to hold on. The picture of that blessed angel burning in his mind gave him strength through fury on more than one occasion.

“Yeah. It helped.”

Aziraphale hummed.

“I am glad it did.”

Crowley felt his eyes prickle and looked away.

“You are? Really?”

Warm, soft hands covered both of his, and he looked back. There was only fondness in the angel’s eyes now.

“Of course I am. If hating me was what you needed to survive between the War and Eden, then I am glad you did.”

Crowley always had been unable to stop asking questions, and often cursed himself for his lack of restraint. This was one of these occasions.

“You didn’t look very glad two minutes ago.”

Aziraphale smiled self deprecatingly.

“Well, you know how slow I can be. I always need time to process. The truth is… it was difficult. Sensing that hate coming from you, and seeing your face looking at me like that. This is not a memory I wish to replay.”

Crowley was not the kind to apologise. But this time seemed like an obligation.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Crawly had every right to be angry at me. No one is to blame, really.”

The demon sighed, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

“How on Earth did you survive that long, angel? You’re always finding excuses for everyone, it’s insane.”

Aziraphale took his pen back, trying to conceal an amused smile.

“Oh, well… I guess I am very lucky.”

“You’re sick, that’s what you are. You have to be, no angel in his right mind would be that sympathetic.”

“I have been told multiple times that I was not a very proper angel,” answered his friend, still writing industriously.

Crowley wanted to keep answering playfully. He really did. But he had trouble talking with this huge lump in his throat.

“We… we’re okay, then, angel? Truly?”

Aziraphale didn’t even look up, but huffed in annoyance.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Crowley, if you really feel that guilty, go make me a cup of tea to redeem yourself. That should do it.”

Middle East, 2020

“You sure?” asked Crowley dubiously.

“For the _hundredth_ time, yes. Yes, I am sure.”

“No need to get angry, I was just _asking_ , angel.”

“Oh, God, give me strength,” murmured the angel, drawing complicated and forgotten runes on the floor around the pillar supporting the metallic box.

“Don’t involve Her in this mess!”

Aziraphale snorted.

“We are stuck in a Time Loop, Crowley. We are endangering the fabric of the universe. I highly doubt the Almighty isn’t aware of that already. We probably are one of her major concerns at the time being.”

The demon grimaced.

“Oh, good. Perfect. You had to put that thought into my mind, didn’t you?”

Aziraphale stood up, brushing his knees before tugging at his waistcoat.

“I think everything is ready. Do you remember the incantation, my dear?”

“For the _hundredth_ time, yes,” answered Crowley with heavy sarcasm.

“Perfect, then,” and Aziraphale smiled brightly, refusing to take the bait.

 _You bastard,_ thought Crowley, unable to stop a smile of his own.

“All we need now is a means to get Crawly’s trust.”

“Angel, I already told you, the devil’s trap is enough.”

“I refuse to use that thing ever again. Plus, I will have to erase his memories of the day, and he has to let me enter his mind for that. We can’t have him walk around Eden knowing we have stopped Armageddon and have been fired by our respective sides. It could change all of our history! If the ritual work, there will not be any reset this time.”

Crowley pondered. How to trust an angel he barely knew enough to let him access to his memories? That was a tricky one. Of course, Aziraphale had given the sword away, that was a heavy point in his favour. And he’d shielded him from the first rain without even thinking about it, which was… well, Crowley’s first good memory since his Fall.

But trust? After a complete and unexpected change in scenery?

“Maybe I could show him my core again, prove him I do not intend to harm him,” mused Aziraphale, and Crowley spluttered.

“WHAT? You showed him your _core_?”

“I had to gain his trust. I thought you had lost your memories.”

“You gave access your _core_ to a demon that hated you only hours ago?”

“Well, I didn’t know that, did I?” asked the angel, looking at his friend with a raised eyebrow.

“Ngk.”

“Quite. So, what do you suggest?”

“Give me a bloody minute, I’m _thinking_ , here.”

Aziraphale pouted and looked with great interest at an old urn.

“Well, that could take a while” he murmured, just loud enough to be heard.

Crowley tilted his head to look at him over the rim of his sunglasses.

“Says the angel who took three loops to figure out a simple incantation.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Touché, my dear.”

The demon checked the writings on the floor, looked at the scrap of paper in his hand once more, afraid to forget the words.

“Everything is going to be fine, my dear,” promised Aziraphale, taking the note from his hand.

“How can you know that?” mumbled Crowley, trying and failing to hide his apprehension.

“I know it because I checked everything. Several times. It will work.”

Crowley had checked too. And to be honest, that ritual was really clever. Sumerians had been masters in magic, they never left anything to chance. That box had been used several times, and always with the expected result. They had everything they needed, and both of them knew what to do. The time loop would break, that was… that was a guarantee. If everything ran smoothly.

Which meant the biggest threat to their plans was himself. His younger version.

“Maybe… maybe I could write to him? Explain him he has to trust you?”

“I am not sure this would work. I could have copied your handwriting...” objected Aziraphale.

“My signature, then. No one but me can sign my true name.”

“But he could think I had you draw it under duress.”

Crowley racked his brain. Then grimaced.

“Weeeeell… I may have an idea. But you won’t like it, angel.”

“Really ? What is it?”

Crowley was right. The angel didn’t like it.

Eden, 4004 BC

_Don’t fuck up_ , thought Crowley as he watched the two first humans in the distance.

This was not a rehearsal. This was the big day. Every word he would say would be the ones Aziraphale would remember in the future. He had to act exactly like he had the first time.

He could only afford tiny differences. Aziraphale, the clever bastard, had learned more about time travel in three days of reading than he ever did in six thousands years.

On the other hand, time never had been that interesting to him. He replayed the angel’s words in his mind.

“ _Small changes are alright. That will not change our reality. God made the universe very resistant, and creating another timeline requires something huge. It will take much more than the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings to create a parallel universe. But still, try to re-enact everything as exactly as possible.”_

Well. He would. How difficult could that be?

Piece of cake, really.

* * *

Middle East, 2020.

“What in Heaven is _that_?”

The angel smiled serenely.

“Well, it is a contract.”

Crawly’s head shot up, and he glared.

“I know that’s a contract! Why did I agree to sign a contract with an angel in the first place? And… why _that_ one? It doesn’t make any sense. It’s crazy!”

But every time he scanned that blessed parchment again, he didn’t feel any lie in it. It was genuine. He really had signed it.

Fuck. Was he insane in the future?

Once more, he read the words, hopping against all odds that they would have changed.

_**I, demon (Crowley’s sigil)** _

_**Am offering willingly through this contract** _

_**My immortal life to Principality Aziraphale** _

_**To dispose** _ _**of** _ _**in any way he may find fitt**_ _ **ing** _

“How did you make me agree to that?”

“You didn’t _agree_ to sign it. You came up with the idea yourself. I was strongly opposed to it. There is a note at the back.”

Crawly turned over the parchment.

_**Listen to the angel, you stupid prick.** _

That looked like something he could have written.

Giving his immortality? To an angel? Really?

He knew better than to try to destroy the contract. Only one person could do that, and unfortunately, not under duress.

“So. What do you intend to do with it?” he asked with a snarl, handing the parchment back.

“Oh, nothing of course! I would never use it,” answered the angel with a shocked expression, raising his hands in refusal. "No, my dear, it was only to have you understand that I was your friend. I do not accept this contract, obviously.”

At this words, the paper disintegrated between Crawly’s fingers.

“Excellent,” exclaimed Aziraphale, clasping his hands together. “Now will you be so kind as to listen to me? This is quite a long story. I already explained to you that you were in the future, but...”

Crawly stopped staring at his fingers in disbelief to focus on the fussy angel.

This day was getting very interesting. Scary, too, but who cared ? Not him. Interesting was good.

* * *

4004 BC, Eden

Crowley stood on the wall, watching as Aziraphale climbed down the stairs. A breach in the wall to close, he’d say. The humans weren’t allowed back in. Not today, not ever. Eden was and would always be out of reach from now on.

He groaned. Half an hour left before the loop would occur again. He felt like he should have said something. Goodbye at least. But not changing the past.

The white figure was too far away to hear him now.

“Best of luck, angel. See you in a while.”

Closing his eyes, Crowley focused on the museum. He needed something to ground him, something strong, a memory, a feeling, anything that would remind him of his time.

Not that difficult. Memories were flooding him. There were too many to count, but they were all leading to the same moment.

His mouth whispered quietly the incantation he knew by heart.

* * *

Middle East, 2020.

There were hands holding his head. They were soft, and pleasantly warm, and familiar.

“Hey, angel.” Crowley opened his eyes and met his friend’s clear gaze.

The smile that spread on Aziraphale’s lips was blinding.

“Welcome back, my dear.”

The hands on his head let go and Crowley tried not to grimace as the angelic warmth disappeared. Hours under the rain (even under a feathery umbrella) weren’t advised when you were a cold blooded serpent.

“Erased his memories, did you?”

“Yes. Not the slightest trouble. I think everything is over now.”

They both turned to look at the metallic box.

“We’ve got to bring that stupid thing to the bookshop and call Raphael so she can collect it,” reminded the demon in a tired voice.

“Yes. The bookshop. What at lovely idea! I will take care of that,” promised Aziraphale , using his overcoat to cover the box before lifting it, careful not to touch it directly.

Crowley tilted his head and smiled.

“You know what we need, angel? Vacations.”

Aziraphale sighed dreamily.

“Oh yes… what an excellent idea.”


	5. Day two-First and only attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is over. The boys are safe, and back at home.  
> But Aziraphale almost lost his friend and is not about to forget about it that easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done ! And on Groundhog day !  
> Final chapter my friends ! I hope you will find the ending satisfying (it was satisfying to write, ha ha !)
> 
> As always, thanks to megzseattle for her great beta, her precious advices, constant support, and perfect stories ! (Seriously, if you don't know her Serpent and Seagull stories, go check, you'll love it !)

Soho, Bookshop, 2020

Crowley looked around him defiantly. It was dark. Alright. So it was night. That was good, right? Had to mean they were safe.

“Aziraphale?”

The angel carefully settled the Sumerian box on his desk before turning to look at his friend. “Yes, dear?”

“Are you _sure_ we’re out of it?”

“Absolutely. It is over, Crowley. How did it go on your end?”

The demon nodded. “Good. Good. Didn’t talk a lot. Didn’t talk at all, actually...”

“Is something the matter?” asked Aziraphale, frowning.

“Well… I don’t know! I’m almost sure we were supposed to talk during the rain, but I don’t remember exactly, so I ended up not talking at all. I hope I didn’t mess this up...”

Aziraphale smiled, his eyes sparkling.

“You do not remember our first conversation?”

This was not a good time to smile, in Crowley’s opinion. Not before they were sure everything was back to normal.

“Of course I remember. Lead balloon, giving the sword, first offence and all… no, that’s after. The hours under the rain. I remember it was nice and I felt good, but not really what we talked about.”

“Oh, we did not. Not until the rain stopped and I told you I had to go to close the breach in the wall.”

Crowley blinked.

“Wait. I’m sure we talked. Don’t remember about what, but I’m sure we did.”

Aziraphale managed to look both happy and embarrassed at the same time. Crowley squinted his eyes.

“What did you do, angel ?”

“Well, I couldn’t send Crawly back with a gap of several hours in his memories, right? I had to replace them with something.”

Crowley blinked again.

“What ? Replace what ?”

The angel tilted his head.

“You stayed in Eden for hours. I erased Crawly’s memories of his time here. I could not let him get back to Eden with no idea of what had happen to him.”

Oh. Yeah, one second he would have been sheltered by an angelic wing, and the next the sun would have set, the rain would have stopped and the angel nowhere to be seen. No. That would have been a bad idea.

“I… didn’t think about that,” murmured the demon slowly.

Aziraphale hummed understandingly.

“I guess the idea of getting stuck 6000 years in the past was not really helping you to focus on those kind of details.”

“So you mean that if I don’t remember what we talked about during the rain… It’s because it’s a fake memory you made up? And it’s always been there in my head, because that time travel thingy is part of my history since… Eden?”

Aziraphale smiled. “Yes, that is exactly that. But I can take it back now if you want, and give you Crawly’s memories instead. I didn’t destroy them, just buried them in his… well, your subconscious.”

Crowley stepped back with an offended gasp.

“Absolutely not! This is way too much fun! I had these fake memories _before_ I activated that stupid box! That’s not Back to the Future! That’s Terminator!”

“I… beg your pardon?”

“Oh, angel, we have so many movies to watch… just remember I’m Sarah Connor. You’ll understand tonight.”

“Tonight? What is happening tonight?”

Crowley chuckled.

“I will not let you get out of the shop before you’ve seen Back to the Future AND Terminator. And I’m talking trilogies here. You’ll love it.”

The angel sat heavily at his desk with a loud sigh.

“Crowley… every time you say the word “trilogy”, my heart skips a beat. And not in a good way.”

“Oh come oooooon! You love my movies nights, angel!”

“I do not! That Colorado series was ridiculous!"

“For the love of… it’s Indiana, Aziraphale!”

“Colorado or Indiana, it was highly inaccurate. And where is Marion? Why did they break up? They were so adorable together!"

Crowley, who had loved Marion and had been highly disappointed by her absence in the sequels but wouldn’t admit it even under duress, snarled.

“That’s not the point, stupid. It’s an adventure story. Nobody cares about romance.”

“So, I assume there is no romance in your Future and Terminator movies either?”

Aziraphale braced himself. His friend had just lived a very stressful experience. He could endure a night of explosions and Deus ex machina to help him feel better.

The demon gasped in outrage.

“No romance? No romance in Back to the Future? Oh, angel, you have no idea ! It’s the main story! You’ll love it!”

“If you say so, dear boy...”

A rush of angelic energy made both of their skin tingle, and for a second Crowley tensed, ready to fight.

“What have you two done this time?” exclaimed Raphael, appearing near the desk.

“Good day to you too,” answered Aziraphale coldly, getting on his feet.

“Metatron just told me to come here and retrieve the artifact before one of you makes another stupid mistake with it. What happened?” snapped the Archangel, clearly irate.

Well, thought Crowley, taking in Aziraphale’s hands, closed into fists at his sides, she was not the only one to be in a mood, and Archangel or not he was betting his money on _his_ angel.

“I _beg your pardon_?” exclaimed the Principality, his eyes shining unnaturally. “A stupid mistake? Is that how Metatron described it? This thing could have killed us, Raphael ! Crowley could have gotten stuck in the past ! Do you have any idea of how _dangerous_ it was to ask us to retrieve that thing without warning?”

“I told you to be careful around it!” yelled Raphael.

 _Bad move_ , thought Crowley with delight. Yelling at an angry Aziraphale was never the smart thing to do. Didn’t he know that.

“Oh, then everything is _fine!_ You told us to be careful ! How can I complain, then? Of course it was absolutely the same as telling us that this object could send our spirits _millennium_ into the past.”

The angel’s voice was dripping so much sarcasm that even Gabriel would have recognised it. It wasn’t only his eyes but his entire corporation that was shining, now, and Crowley thought distractingly that he hadn’t seen him in such a state in a long time. Maybe he should step in before books started to get damaged.

“I wasn’t allowed to tell you more !”

Raphael’s voice echoed into the suddenly very quiet bookshop. Crowley saw his friend freeze on the spot, eyes wide opened.

“Who ? Who told you to shut up ?” snapped the demon.

“Was it Metatron again ?” asked the angel with contempt. Aziraphale wasn’t Metatron biggest fan since Armageddon.

“No. Not Metatron.” answered the Archangel in a whisper.

“Oh, you’ve got to be _kidding_ me !” growled Crowley, anger building in his chest.

But already Aziraphale was deflating, eyes closed, trying to dissolve his fighting mood into ether.

“Oh. I see,” he said in a small voice.

This was unacceptable. Crowley _hated_ it, hated to see his friend force himself to go back to the obedient, unassuming sad angel who didn’t ask questions just because God decreed he wasn’t on the need to know list. Something (his sanity and survival instinct, probably) snapped in the demon’s mind.

“Well, fuck you, Raphael ! And fuck Her too !”

“Crowley !” gasped Aziraphale.

“Take your stupid little treasure and go back to Heaven, and you can tell God to shove it...”

“ **Crowley** !” yelled Aziraphale in a voice the demon had never heard before.

His mouth snapped shut, but he was still glaring daggers at the Archangel.

“Go away, now, Raphael,” asked the angel coldly.

She hesitated for a second, but sighed and took the box in her arms, still wrapped up in the angel’s overcoat.

“I am sorry, truly” she admitted with a sad smile. “Take care of yourself, Aziraphale.”

And she disappeared.

“Oh, Crowley,” breathed the angel in a broken voice.

“I’m not sorry, angel. Don’t ask me to apologise, cause I won’t !”

“Apologise ? Oh, my dear, why should you ? I am the one who should ask your pardon.”

“Whot ?” was the only reply Crowley could provide.

“I let my anger get the better part of me, and didn’t think of your feelings. My dear, this was really dangerous of you to say that. Please, never do this again.”

Crowley shrugged noncommittally. He had trouble dealing with Aziraphale when he looked so concerned. But no way in Heaven he was going to promise that kind of thing. The angel seemed to sense it, because his anguished expression morphed into that damned kicked-puppy-eyed one.

“Please, Crowley ? I do not think I could bear to see you smitten for blasphemy. And one sword is not enough to destroy Heaven single handedly.”

Flames ! He was such a sucker for those eyes.

“All right, all right ! Just shut up, stupid.”

The angel’s face lit up like a beacon. _The bastard_.

“Oh, thank you, my dear !”

“Yeah, right, enough of that. What are we doing now ? You kind of kicked Raphael out. Not a really smart move, in my opinion, making an enemy of the only Archangel that wasn’t already hating you.”

“I am sure she will see her error and ask for forgiveness.” answered Aziraphale with a serene smile.

“She won’t ask for forgiveness for obeying God, angel. You can’t ask that of her.”

“Well, I guess the Almighty will have to do it, then.” declared the angel with a pout, starting to gather the books he’d scattered around the place earlier in the day in his research.

“You’re… what ? Wait, Aziraphale… did you just say you wanted _God_ to apologise to us ?”

“Of course not ! That would be highly improper. Metatron should do it. He is Her spokesman after all.”

Crowley suddenly brightened up. Oh. OK, that he understood. This had nothing to do with God.

“You’re still angry at him for intercepting your call on Armageddon, right ?”

The angel made a face, full of righteous indignation, and sent what was almost a glare at the ceiling.

“He was very rude about it. And he said that touching that box was a stupid mistake when it was perfectly normal, demonic curiosity.” he answered as he started putting the books back on their respective shelves. “If Heaven wants me to lend them a hand when needed in the future, then Metatron should apologise to you first. He put you into danger.”

Crowley smiled, touched to see his friend so pissed off in his behalf.

“Do you intend to help me with these, or to just watch me doing it, Crowley ?”

“Watching is fine. Wouldn’t want to disturb your organisation. I know how important it is to you that each book is in the right place,” declared the demon virtuously.

Aziraphale shot his friend a fond smile and shook his head before getting back to work.

“You fiend.”

“That I am.”

Crowley smirked and aimed for the back room, thinking of ordering take out. Maybe Indian. The angel loved a good massala.

He disappeared through the door for about a minute, then came back with a strange, dazed expression on his face and sat on the desk. Aziraphale was still sorting out his books, humming an old melody.

Crowley drummed his fingers on the desk.

“Angel ?”

“Yes, dear ?”

“There’s Metatron in the back room.

The angel froze.

“He apologised to me,” added the demon. “Wants to talk to you too. Doesn’t look very happy, to be honest.”

Slowly, Aziraphale put his stack of books down, smoothed down his jacket and arranged his already perfect bow-tie, raised his chin and squared his shoulders.

“Well, it is about time,” he declared like the situation was perfectly normal.

Crowley followed him with awe.

The angel was wrong, he thought.

He could definitely take down Heaven single handedly if he ever put his mind to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all my lovely readers for liking my silly stories !  
> Every kudo and comment is warming my heart, you have no idea how grateful I am for your support !  
> February challenge is on, and I have so much fun already ...  
> See you tomorrow for next story ^^

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea of how many chapter I will write on this story. I started with four, but everybody knows I don't count very well ^^


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